


All that matters.

by ChildofDavros



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, Blow Jobs, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Sad Sherlock, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofDavros/pseuds/ChildofDavros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Turning to Lestrade Anderson smirked “You will never guess what I have just found under the freak’s bed."</p>
<p>John comes home to find Anderson taunting Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that matters.

When John walked into the flat that evening he had expected a quiet evening filled with rubbish TV and snarky (but otherwise amusing) comments from Sherlock. What he did not expect was to find the flat being ransacked by police officers. As he entered the living room he searched for Sherlock amongst the people, resolutely ignoring the men haphazardly pulling books of the shelf. Sherlock would go mental when he saw that as he had only just rearranged them in order of their publishing date. With the amount of books both he and John had it had been a colossal task which John had been dragged into to keep Sherlock happy. Pushing his way through the mess he hears Lestrade’s voice coming from Sherlock’s room. 

As he enters the he see’s Sherlock standing by the window looking as if he was about to pass out. John had never seen him look so nervous and became instantly cautious. Sherlock didn’t do nervous or afraid, so if his usually haughty friend was looking like this then something was deeply wrong. 

“Ah John, you’re home” Lestrade spoke from his position leaning against the wardrobe. “Sherlock here decided upon himself to steal a bit of evidence this morning, and since I have warned him against this I decided to throw a little impromptu drugs bust. Sorry you have to put up with this but you understand?”

John was getting more annoyed by the minute. “Sherlock does a lot of stupid things but that doesn’t mean you can come into our home and destroy it just because you’re a bit pissed off. So no, Detective Inspector, I do not understand” John spat this at Lestrade who admittedly began to look a bit sheepish. 

During this encounter John had failed to notice the man currently searching under Sherlock’s bed, it wasn’t until he heard a laugh that he looked down. Anderson then proceeded to crawl out from under the bed clutching what looked like a magazine. If John had been looking at Sherlock he would of seen the detective pale immediately and look as if he were about to throw up. 

Turning to Lestrade Anderson smirked “You will never guess what I have just found under the freak’s bed. I always knew he was a freak but this, this just proves it.” With that Anderson reveals the mysterious object that he had removed from under the bed. To Johns heart sank.

It was a gay porn magazine. A full on porno with buff military style men in various states of undress littering the front cover. John knew that Sherlock wasn’t asexual as most people assumed but instead he had decided to put his sexuality aside to concentrate on the work. Whilst Sherlock had never told John he also guessed that it was because he couldn’t form relationships and didn’t want to get hurt. Because that was the thing. Despite his cold exterior and what everyone thought of him, Sherlock was incredibly sensitive. He put on this front so that no one could get close enough to hurt him. He could ignore the insults from most people as they meant nothing to him, but insults from John, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson or Mycroft destroyed him. John had only once seen the destruction once after Mycroft made a remark. Sherlock had locked himself in his room for a week and when he did come out he looked as if he had been trying to scratch his skin off. John knew that Sherlock had never wanted anyone outside of a select few to know his sexuality. To some people it would make him even more of a freak. 

“Not only a freak, but a fag as well. It makes sense now.” Anderson jibed at Sherlock with no care to who else was in the room, “You, who always laughs at me and Sally and what we do in the privacy of our lives is no better. You’re just a little cocksucker”.

Sherlock stood there and took it, but at cocksucker he looked up with the an expression that could only be described as demonic. “Yes, I am just a little cocksucker, is that the best you can do. I can do better than that. Queer, faggot, pillow biter, homo, arse bandit, cock slut, fairy, poof, shirt lifter. Freak. Nothing you can call me is any worse then what I have been calling myself since I was 11.” 

Silence hit the room as Sherlock paced the room, getting more frantic with each insult. The look on his face looked as if he were punishing himself, that he believed in all those things he had said. He looked so sad and dejected, as if his whole life had come crumbling down. Nobody else noticed but John saw Sherlock instinctively squeeze his thigh and John knew this is what he did to stop himself crying. To stop himself looking weak. 

John couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t let Sherlock take this alone. He wouldn’t let Sherlock lose his respect and dignity for a piece of scum like Anderson. He grabbed Anderson by the back of the shirt and dragged him so he was facing him.

“I don’t care what you think in that mess of cells you call a brain. If I ever hear you talk to him like that again. Hell, even if I don’t hear you I WILL find out about it, if you ever talk to him like that I will cut you limb from limb and drop you into the Thames. Do I make myself clear.” John had turned full Captain Watson as he held Anderson centimetres from his face. The only thing the forensic officer could do was nod weakly, with that John let him go and quickly smashed his fist into the other man’s jaw. The crunch was the most delightful sound John could of ever heard, only rivaled by the sight of Anderson falling to the ground with an obvious broken jaw. 

“Get out of my flat. All of you.” John sneered at the man on the floor before turning to Lestrade “And you, you’re supposed to be an officer, but instead you let one of your men publicly humiliate and abuse a member of the public. Not just anyone but the person who solves more crimes then your entire team put together. You disgust me. Sherlock is the most amazing, brilliant, kind, smart, witty, intelligent man to walk this earth. He could of been anything but instead he chooses to help people, and to help you. He doesn’t do it for money, or fame but to help people. And you let your team humiliate him purely because he may or may not like men? Or that he has a porn mag? Like all of us are innocent? Sherlock put aside his sexuality for the work, that’s why no one know about it. How many of your team can say the same? How many hours could be used for work instead of chasing women or jacking off or having sex if they were all like Sherlock? But they never could be because they are all so beneath him. Now get out before I break everyone’s jaw.” 

Lestrade was looking so hard at his shoes that if he looked any harder he would burn a hole in them. Without a word he shuffled from the room, along with Anderson, and left the flat. During John’s little (more like huge) rant every other officer had heard the threats and the tone and decided the best course of action would be to leave their Detective Inspector in charge. 

John turned to Sherlock and grabbed him by the shoulders, “I don’t care if you’re straight, gay, bi, asexual or attracted to bloody potatoes for fuck sake. All I care about is you. As a person. I won’t let them hurt you Sherlock, but I wont let you hurt yourself either. Being gay is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. All those words that you said, those names, I don’t want you to ever think of yourself like that. Do you want to know the names I call you? Amazing, clever, funny, infuriating, messy” With that John let out a little laugh, “loyal, committed, beautiful.” During his speech John’s hands had migrated from Sherlock’s shoulders to cupping his face gently. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered closed as John took his face in his hands, “John” his voice cracked over the name and John’s heart broke. Sherlock should never sound like that. He should sound sarcastic and rude but never like that. Never like a lost little boy. So John did the only thing he could. He leant up and placed his lips against Sherlock’s and waited.

Sherlock froze at the contact. This was John, John was straight, not gay, but why was he kissing him then, why would John want to kiss him? And then it clicked. All the things John had said to Anderson and Lestrade, the punch, the kind words to him. John loved him. 

“You love me” pulling away from the kiss, if you can call it that, Sherlock blurted out his latest deduction.   
John looked sheepishly at Sherlock “Well, yeah. If you don’t feel the same, or feel awkward I can go. I just couldn’t leave letting them say those things without you knowing that it’s all lies. I didn’t mean to, I mean, uh, I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry, I’ll go” John mumbled all this to the floor, not once making eye contact with Sherlock.

“You love me” Sherlock repeated, but this time he took John’s face in his hands and pulled it to his. As their lips met Sherlock felt complete. Moving his lips softly against Johns he felt the other man reciprocate. Not knowing how far John wanted to take the kiss he gingerly swiped the seam of John’s lips with his tongue, hoping, no begging for entry. John let him in. With that the kiss got heated and the two fought for dominance, swirling tongues and exploring each others mouths. One of Sherlock’s hands had ended up under John’s jumper whilst the other unashamed groped John’s arse. John had both his hand entwined in Sherlock inky hair. Pausing for breath Sherlock pushed John to the floor so he was sitting, leaning up against the foot of the bed. In one swift movement the detective straddled the poor doctor and began his ministrations again.

“You”...”Love”..”Me” Sherlock breathily panted out in between kisses.  
“Yes” John replied hastily then pulled back looking a bit apprehensive “but Sherlock, do you, y’know, about me?” the embarrassed way John phrased the question went straight to Sherlock’s heart. 

Pulling a little back Sherlock took hold of John’s hand and pushed it against his swelling crotch, “See what you do to me John Watson. You are my everything. No one had done this to me, ever. Never have I felt like this for one person. I couldn’t live without you, I want to die with you. John, I am maddeningly in love with you” With that declaration John rushed forward capturing Sherlock’s lips with his own. Whimpering with the sudden action Sherlock unwillingly bucked into the hand he still held against his own crotch. Sensing Sherlock’s desperation John unzipped Sherlock’s dress pants and dove his hand in. It wasn’t long till Sherlock was biting down on John’s shoulder and erratically fucking John’s fist with abandon. With a cry, Sherlock came, thick ropes hitting John in the chest and some of it making it onto his chin and cheek. Sherlock slumped forward as if he had died.   
 As much as John loved the fact that Sherlock was practically snuggling him, he had a bit of a problem downstairs that needed to be taken care of. Feeling John tense up Sherlock lifted his head and looked at his new found lover. His eyes lit up seeing pearly drops of his cum splattered on the bottom half of John’s face. Without a word Sherlock set about licking his own cum of John’s face as he simultaneously unzipped the doctor jeans. Sliding off John’s lap Sherlock pulled out the doctor’s member and took it all into his mouth in one slide. John had been perilously close before but that sent him over the edge. Grabbing hold of Sherlock’s head he forced his cock further down Sherlock’s throat. Desperately seeking his release John lost himself in the moment, furiously fucking Sherlock’s mouth he came with a cry. 

Sherlock felt John stiffen and then suddenly his mouth became full of sticky liquid. He dutifully swallowed and set about licking John’s cock clean. 

Both satisfied they curled up to each other on the floor and swapped lazy kisses, which turned into a slow, burning snog on the floor of Sherlock’s bedroom. No words needed to be said, they had solidified everything with their actions. John loved Sherlock and Sherlock loved John. That was all that mattered to them. All that would ever matter.

**Author's Note:**

> This only my second fic, and the first time I have written this kind of thing. Feedback would be much appreciated. :)


End file.
